


Ashen Serpents

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMFs, Canon Compliant through Deathly Hallows, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Forgive me any inconsistencies, Friends to Lovers, Good Slytherins, Harry Potter Universe but more modern day, Harry being adorably innocent, Hermione is going to Muggle university, I don't know why I'm writing this, I haven't read the books in a while, I hope you can forgive me, I never liked Ron Weasley, I'm Sorry, Not Epilogue Compliant, POV Hermione Granger, Past Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Portrait Fred is a sassy boy, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Deathly Hallows, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Being an Asshole, Seriously Fred is amazing, Sexy Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Tattooed Draco, The Golden Trio, There will be comic book references, This might be a little wrong, but I really don't care, here there be smut, iPhones and modern stuff, scarred Draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-04 08:14:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12164994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione has learned enough magic to survive in the real world and has left her homeland. She transitions to Muggle life, finding ways to help people without them knowing. She soon encounters her childhood tormentor inbetween her university classes, and it goes about as well as she can expect.But beneath his cold demeanor, she sees his pain and suffering at the hands of his wizarding peers. Can they get past their hurt, and reach an understanding?





	1. Meet Hermione

**Author's Note:**

> None of this belongs to me, everything is from the wonderful mind of JK Rowling.

Hermione groaned, her alarm shaking her from her already broken sleep. She rolled over and checked the time through bleary eyes.  **6:02**. She sighed and swung her legs out of bed. 

_Time for another long day._

Hermione picked up her wand from the bedside table and waved it absentmindedly, turning off the alarm and opening her wardrobe. After a few minutes of rifling through everything, she decided on a pair of Levis and a simple _Blade Runner_  logo tshirt.

Her reflection gazed back at her with droopy eyes and ruffled curls. After learning long ago that she could never tame her mop when it was long, she had recently cut it off at the shoulders.

She eyed herself skeptically. Her hair seemed to always be a focal point in her appearance, though now it had become a good thing. After wrenching a brush through the mass of waves, it looked like it had been worked on for hours for that windblown look stylists craved, that which she now so naturally obtained. 

She shrugged and after brushing her teeth and washing her face she applied some defining eyebrow pencil. Deciding against any eye makeup, she instead opted for some clear lip gloss. 

_Well. This is as good as it's going to get._

Shaking her head, she left her bathroom and went off in search of breakfast. 

 

She shuffled the items around that existed in her fridge once, twice, three times. Nothing tickled her fancy. Hermione finally grabbed the milk and just downed the rest of the carton at once, then stuffed a packet of Pop Tarts in her bag for the walk to school. 

The early morning was still dark, but the first bleeding rays of the sun were beginning to peek above the trees. 

She never got used to how strange it was, this new place. America had changed everything for her. Though she had left almost everyone behind, she made the effort to install a Floo network connection to Grimmauld Place. Harry and Luna stayed there most of the nights they weren't working, and she often visited them to keep in touch. 

Hermione had not included the Burrow in her limited Floo destinations. 

Her relationship with Ronald had been... Rocky, to say the least. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron had changed. She suspected perhaps he had seen her in a different light when she sided with Harry about his firewhisky addiction. But whatever the motivations, he walked out on her two months later and she never went after him. She was guiltily relieved, in part, feeling she had dodged a bullet.

She smiled as her thoughts turned to Harry. Wonderful, adorable Harry. He had changed his mind about halfway through Auror testing and chose to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, which had delighted Hermione to no end. He was still attaining his teaching credentials from McGonagall, but they were merely formalities at this point. He had more than proven his adept skill with DADA, and McGonagall was more than thrilled to have him at her school. 

She giggled, lowering her eyes to her sneakers and avoiding passerby's gazes as she remembered Snape's portrait reacting to Harry's job application. She imagined his deep drawl.

 

" _Surely_ , Headmaster, there is someone _better_ suited for the position? Another applicant? With Potter's... _inherent_ knack for trouble... This could spell disaster very quickly if he were put in charge of a class of youths."

 

She was shaken from the memory when she ran into a very tall figure. She lost her balance and fell over, her books skittering and flying all down the sidewalk. She sputtered out an apology and shot forward to gather her precious books. The man stooped down to help her.

 

"I'm sorry, that was entirely my fault. Pardon me." His voice. She knew that aristocratic dictation anywhere, even here, deadened by American exposure. 

Hermione locked eyes with Draco Malfoy and her heart stopped. 

Fight or flight signals flashed in her brain, those crystalline eyes triggering old memories of taunting and hurt. His gaze froze on her face, and he seemed as unable to move as she was. 

 

"Hermione? Hermione Granger?" His voice shakes with disbelief. "Wow. You look really good. What are you doing here?" He tries for as sincere of a smile as she imagines is possible for him. 

Her guard is up when she answers, unwilling to fall for the charming facade that she knows hides her old tormentor. 

 

"I could ask you the same thing, Draco Malfoy." She finished gathering her papers and held out her hand expectantly for the rest. He didn't move. 

His expression was apprehensive, hesitant. 

 

"I'm here of my own volition, in case you're wondering." He must have noticed when she glanced at his Mark. "I came here to study. I don't want to remain in the dark about everything forever. Although, admittedly I am adjusting to Muggles, I am not who I was. At least here people don't hate me for my past." He gives her a pointed look, though it's softened in a way Hermione can't describe. 

 

"I wasn't asking. I'm sorry, but I must get to my first class."

 

"Hermione..." His eyes search hers, and she can't stop the tears that begin to well up. She begs him to not press it, but he ignores her silent plea. "I'm sorry. For everything. Not just the books. But--" He glances down at her wrist, which she was nervously yanking her sweater down over the scar. 

 _Mudblood._  

 

"I don't blame you for that, Draco. Voldemort--" She pauses when he winces a little at the name, "Voldemort manipulated your family. If you hadn't complied with his wishes, you would have been killed. I can't fault you for trying to survive." Hermione avoids his gaze. "I've done things to survive, too. Things I'm not proud of. I understand what pressure you were under." 

His hand finds hers, and he's terribly saddened when she trembles at his touch. 

 

"No. I'm sorry for the stupidity of my youth. For being jealous of you, of your life, and lashing out. I don't want to leave anything unaccounted for." 

Still avoiding his eyes, she shrugs indifferently. Having Draco sitting so near, his breath on her face and his hand clutching hers, it was disorienting. What terrified her, though, what really petrified her, was the way she wanted to forgive him so badly. Grudges, as she knew all too well with Ronald, could be your undoing. 

But when she finally meets his regretful eyes, all she can see are the swimming images of his smirking evil face, his laughter, his teasing. She can't flush the image from her mind.

 

"I forgive you, Draco. I forgave you long ago." She thinks he'll be satisfied with this and makes to leave. 

He grips her hand only slightly, his eyes tugging at her. 

 

"Can we maybe get lunch sometime? I really want to get to know you again. As friends rather than foes." Her stomach churns. Hermione finally meets his clear eyes, forcing down the old feelings. She can tell, just from his posture and the way he is gazing at her, that Draco Malfoy is not the same as he was. She steels herself, breast swelling with determination. 

 

"Yes. Today?" 

He seems shocked that she's accepted. Draco suddenly breaks into a natural smile, and she takes a moment to marvel at his handsome face. Indeed, the antagonistic boy she knew was gone. 

 

"Wonderful. Meet here at around one?" He nods at the Noodles & Company across the street. Hermione tries for a smile herself. Taking it as affirmation, He raises an eyebrow and kisses the back of her hand. To her expression, he only states, "I may have been disowned by my family and spit upon my father's name, but I won't disregard my manners."

The lithe blond man rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. Her breath catches when he doesn't release her hand and they're nose-to-nose. But as soon as he he had appeared, he was also gone with the swish of his cloak, leaving her standing disheveled in the middle of a sidewalk in Portland, Oregon.


	2. The Luncheon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is in a fog all through her lunch with the golden-haired Slytherin. She is completely blindsided when an old friend shows up to crash the party.

Hermione finally made it to class, but in a total daze. She went through the motions absently, unable to tear her thoughts from her classmate. She finished all of her homework early, as always, and had ample time before she would start making her way to the restaurant to meet Draco. 

As the time drew nearer, she felt herself becoming unbearably nervous. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as noon came and went, and she soon discovered a creeping flush alighting her cheeks. 

In what seemed a blink, she was sitting in the restaurant, eyeing the menu and deciding on pesto cavatappi. She sat near the middle, giving her full view of both exits and ample time to spot the towheaded blond.

Even with this advantage, he took her breath away when he entered the small establishment. His hair had gotten longer since she had last seen him, a long floppy patch on top of his head with the sides shaved. His clothing was distinguished yet casual, with a snug button-down pine green shirt and form-fitting cuffed jeans. It struck her, as he ordered, that she didn't like how friendly he was with the pretty cashier. She didn't like the way he smiled at her and pushed his hair back.

Hermione was jealous of someone she didn't even _know_ , all because Draco had changed his look a little. She decided he had gone from slightly attractive, snobbish pureblood to a sexy professor in the time it had taken her to break up with Ron, move to America, and get settled in. She forced herself to look away before she made a fool of herself, but she kept glancing back to observe the clean lines of his strong back and gloriously curved ass. 

Mortified at her own line of thinking, she turned her mind to the subject that always focused her: world domination. 

It sounded awful when she thought about it so bluntly, but that  _was_ indeed, in the simplest of terms, what it was. In kinder perspective, it was her way of trying to right all of the wrongs she had seen: finding ways of ending world hunger, easing the political tension in the Middle East, fixing Donald Trump's horrible toupee...

Her eyes must have glossed over in her deep thought experiment, because she doesn't notice when Draco sits down across from her until he clears his throat. 

She snaps back to reality, embarrassed. 

 

"Hello," She stutters. "Sorry, my mind was on other things." 

 

"I could tell." Draco smirks at her, the faintest trace of his old self peeking through. Hermione limited herself severely, trying to unsee the image of Draco her imagination had procured, naked and laughing at her shyness.

 

"I--Um, what did you order? You seemed to hit it off with Eyebrows McGee over there." Hermione kicked herself. She got mouthy when nervous, and when his gaze fell upon her, she became all kinds of flustered. 

 

"Her? Oh, no," He grins as though reading her mind (or probably her blush) and shrugs. "I've learned how to be civil to people. And I got the Japanese pan noodles. They're my favorite."

 

"A little on the spicy side of life. Nice." She sips her water, desperately trying to calm down. She avoids his eyes when their food is delivered. He notices and lowers his fork, all joking aside. 

 

"Hermione, look at me." His voice is soft but serious. She manages to peek up at him from beneath her eyelashes. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm sorry you're still nervous around me. I wish I could turn back time and beat the ever-loving shit out of my twelve-year-old self." His fork hits the table with a gentle clatter. She has a momentary flashback to her exploits with the Time-Turner in third year, but immediately returns her attention to the silver-headed man before her. "But since I can't, I have to settle for asking your forgiveness instead. Please allow me to change your opinion of me." 

Hermione sighs and pushes aside her bowl as well. She stares into his soul, his eyes revealing everything to her, as easily read as the pages of the books she so intently craves.

 

"Draco..." Her voice catches, and she has no words. Instead, she lifts her sleeve to reveal the scar on her forearm. She sees the pain swell in his eyes as he sees the scar again. Old feelings of helplessness and regret come sweeping back to him. Draco's hand flits to trace the word with a feather-light touch, his fingers cool and soft. 

 

"Hermione..." He grips her fingers, finding solace in knowing she hadn't yet left. "I need to tell you something--"

 

"Hermione! Well, if this isn't the last thing I expected to see in my lifetime..." Draco's back stiffens at his old nemesis' voice. His facial expression shifts into indifference and he releases Hermione's hand, reaching instead for his food. 

Harry Potter pulls a chair up to their table, sitting between his old classmates. Hermione feels her face go red, and she tries to hide her embarrassment at being caught holding hands with Draco Malfoy. She tries to bury her emotions in forkfuls of pasta.

 

"Not that I'm not delighted to see you Harry--" She sighs, "But what _are_ you doing here?"

 

"What a small world, eh? Here I was, stopping by to get Luna some purely American herbs, when I saw your faces in the window! What a coincidence!" 

Finally calming somewhat, Hermione wrinkles her nose at Harry. 

 

"Luna would shame you, Harry, for believing in coincidences after all this time." 

 

"Always," He laughs. He turns to Draco, who had become mysteriously engrossed in his lunch as well. "How are _you_ , Draco? Enjoying the company of the brightest witch of our age?" 

Draco raises his eyes to catch Harry's and gives a polite smiling nod. 

 

"I was, actually. Trying to make amends, as it were." He dabs his mouth with a napkin. "How have you and Luna been getting on? I hear you're together now. Things not so well with Ginny?"

Harry shrugs.

 

"Yeah... You don't know the half of it. Ginny... Beautiful, stubborn as a goat, and definitely the master of the Bat Bogey Hex. I couldn't stand how possessive she had become. I guess I just missed Luna's company. Her laughter, her ability to see the best in people, her love of stories. I don't always understand her, but she's so wonderful. She's _so_ different from Ginny. We were _fighting_ too much, and I just wanted someone who..." He sighs. "Luna is the best choice I think I've ever made." 

Hermione grins widely, approval plain on her face. 

 

"I love Ginny to pieces, but I think the Weasleys are a _little--"_ She pinches her pointer finger and thumb together,  "-- _much_ to handle, sometimes." 

Draco shoots a glance at Hermione, curious. 

 

"Trouble in paradise, Granger? Has little Weaselbee been a bad boy?"

Hermione tightens her lip line, lowering her gaze. 

She hesitates, not wanting to drudge up the memories of her flame-headed ex.

 

"We... we are no longer on speaking terms." 

 

"Let's leave it at that, Hermione. We don't want dear Draco here running off and murdering the poor sod. He may be an idiot, but he's still my friend." Harry laughs a little nervously.

She glares at Harry. 

 

"You know what he did was _unforgivable_." 

 

"Of course! I'm not defending him! I just don't think our violently-inclined friend here needs to know all the details..."

Draco stiffens. Hermione senses the sting Draco felt at Harry's words.

 

"I'm sitting _right_ here, _Potter_." He clutches his fork in a deathgrip. Harry raises his eyebrows, his own point made for him.

 

Hermione pipes up with a little hysterical note in her voice.

 

"Actually, I wouldn't _mind_ seeing Draco beat the piss out of Ronald Weasley! Here's what he did, Draco--I don't think you should be left in the dark--Ronald became rather _attached_ to his wonderful bottles of firewhisky, and in these drunken stupors of his, complained in general about what a loser I was and why couldn't I be more like Lavender Brown--always supporting him and showering love and affection upon him whenever he asked for it! He hated when Harry and I staged an intervention, was absolutely livid. Apparently he thought I needed to be taught a lesson--and I caught him rutting Lavender in our bed two days later. _He_ walked out on me for Lav and I _never_ went after him. I don't want to see his wretched face again for as long as I live!"

She stuggles for breath, feeling tears building behind her lids.

Silence stretches between the three, the restaurant around them suddenly quiet. Hermione buries her face in her hands, trying to hide from the many sets of eyes she felt on her back. Harry rubbed her back gently as she cried, his lips soft on her forehead. She hears a scraping chair from Draco and after he's cleared away their eatingware his hands find hers. 

 

"You were right to not tell me, Potter. If I had heard this while still in London..." She feels him shake his head. "Little Weaselbee would have found himself eating slugs."

Hermione shudders with the memory, Harry tightening his hold on her. She slips her hands from Draco's and wraps her arms around Harry's neck, silencing her sobs against his sweater. 

 

"To be honest, I think I might do it myself," Harry mutters. "This is the worst fit I've ever seen from Hermione. Usually it would have just been anger, but--" He sighs, patting her hair. "--Ron has made my best friend cry. He's going to regret it." 

 

 

 


	3. Feels Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco return to England for a holiday at Hogwarts.

Hermione finally rose from her seat and exited the restaurant. Harry had since left to give Ron a scolding, and Draco trailed not far behind her. He could tell she needed some space.

Soon, though, as she walked through the winding streets, the silence became stifling. She sighed with resignation and came to a stop. He sidled up beside her, curious as to what she would say. 

 

"Let's get out of here," She exclaims suddenly. "Cast a Confundus Charm and never look back. Return to England!" She emphasizes her point with a swirl of her hand in the air. "I can do wandless magic, I can do it! Let's just leave." 

 

"Hermione, I don't think you're seeing straight," Draco muttered. "I think you're still worked up over your whole... Weasley tantrum, and you haven't calmed down yet." 

 

"Oh, I'm seeing everything perfectly," Hermione gives him a sly grin. A cheeky, devilish grin, malevolent in nature. It thrilled Draco to see her like this, though it also terrified him. He'd seen her magic, knew she was no slouch. She frightened him. 

 

"Please, just think about it before you wipe an entire college's memory of the last three weeks!" 

 

"Oh, puh. I only emerge for classes, I mostly stay at my apartment. 60 people at most."

 

"Still--" He sighs in exasperation, seeing the determined set to her jaw. 

 

"Draco." Her tone sobered from it's previous absurdity. "I can't stay here." Her eyes plead with him, and he knows he can't say no. 

 

They Apparated in London three days later, after sufficient Confunding of neighbors and staff. Draco inhaled deeply in relief, the crisp British air causing his pale cheeks to flush. 

 

"It's good to be back." He says this only half-earnestly; not even a full minute back on wizarding soil and he begins to recieve glares from passerby. Hermione notices this and glares back at the witches and wizards who give him unsavory glances. She pointedly loops her arm in his, causing his cheeks to brighten a little. 

They stroll through Diagon Alley and peruse the wares. Hermione is horribly saddened to discover Weasley's Wizard Wheezes has long since been removed. 

 

"However I may feel about Ronald," She sighs, "I _do_ miss Fred and George."

Draco nods, patting her gloved hand where it rests in the crook of his arm. 

 

"Though I never admitted it, I was always jealous of them. Try though I did, I could never come up with pranks as good as theirs." He smiles at the memory of their last day. 

 

"Hey," Hermione squeezes his arm. "At least they went out with a bang." 

He chuckles. 

 

"With a bang, indeed." 

They continued down the lane, saddened by the loss of Ollivander's as well. 

 

"I got my first wand from him. He knew my name and didn't hate me for it. Just saw me as another boy learning magic." Draco blinks distractedly. 

 

"He didn't care that I was Muggleborn. He admired my thirst for knowledge." She gives a derisive laugh. "Funny, never got me anywhere."

Draco glares at this response. 

 

"It got you _everywhere_!" He snaps. He catches himself and regains his composure, trying to capture what he lost. "Honestly, I thought your life was perfect. That is, before I found out about your parents." 

She shrugged. 

 

"I'm sorry." He kissed her mitten-enveloped fingers, gripping them against the cold. She gave him a soft smile, one he had never seen before. He couldn't know it, but it was the smile she only used when with him.

 

"Shall we pay ol' Hoggy Warty Hogwarts a visit? Relive our glory days in the stomping grounds?" Hermione means it as a joke, but before she can finish, she finds herself sidealong-Apparated to the school's gates. Draco's expression is stoic, but one of ease. 

 

"I missed it, too." The gates open and they head inside, seeking out the Headmistress. 

 

* * *

 

"You _what_?" Professor Minerva McGonagall was not an easy woman to surprise. In fact, she prided herself on being nearly unflappable, considering the many years she had taught and all she had seen. However, this took the cake. 

 

"Please, Professor." Hermione had been overjoyed when she had seen her old Transfiguration teacher. She respected Minerva McGonagall more than any other staff member on the grounds. "It's just for a few days, until Draco can secure his summer cottage for us to stay in. I promise we won't disturb the students." 

McGonagall eyed Draco over her spectacles with suspicion. 

 

"This is not a bed and breakfast, Miss Granger. I don't have any interest in what you do in your spare time, that is your business--but to take your honeymoon at a school is unorthodox and unethical!""

 

"We're not--!"

 

"Obviously we aren't married!" 

 

"Really?" McGonagall sniffed. "Could have fooled me." 

 

"Why would you automatically think--? He's hated me for most of our lives!" 

Draco winces at Hermione's words, but doesn't deny it.

 

"I always suspected you were displaying supressed attraction for one another." McGonagall looks from Hermione to Draco in turn. "Was I wrong?"

 

"Though I've never denied his appearance is aesthetically pleasing--" Draco raises an eyebrow at this, "--I only recently was able to call him friend. I hope you can understand, Professor, that is all we are. Reconciling for one's past is not unheard of."

 

"Old wounds must eventually heal," Draco supplied. "I wish to help Hermione recover from any harm I may have caused her. I'm a changed man, Professor. I would never hurt her or anyone else willingly, never again. Not after--" He winces slightly. "Not after Voldemort released me from the Imperious Curse." 

 

"The Unforgivable Curse?" The wise older witch narrowed her eyes, assessing the possibility. 

 

"Yes. I wasn't sure that's what it was, at first. It was just a really uncomfortable feeling, like I was terrified what would happen if I didn't, as though I was driven by fear, and I would forget why I wanted to disobey in the first place. But then when I kept seeing him everywhere, and it became harder to understand _exactly_ what was going on--it became like a dream..." He faltered, but then his gaze came into focus, settling on the older witch. "In the end? Yes, I've done things I'm not proud of. I've seen things that would boil many men's blood. But in the end, Professor, I chose _not_ to be my father."

McGonagall nods, seemingly satisfied. She sighs, returning her attention to Hermione. 

 

"I can't just have you staying in the school for no good reason. We're not a hotel. I understand this is a safe place for you. I, too, keep coming back to Hogwarts..." Her eyes lose focus, but only for a second; she's back to her no-nonsense demeanor as though nothing had happened. "I must employ you if you are to remain here. Hermione, choose a course and it's yours. I don't think I've ever met another student that recieved perfect marks in all of her NEWTs." She gave Hermione a knowing smile. "As for you, Mr. Malfoy... Perhaps you could assist Madam Hooch in instructing the first years how to fly, having your experience as the Slytherin Seeker for your class..." She paces behind her desk, a learned habit from Dumbledore. "Yes, I suppose that would be best. For the time being, Malfoy, report to Madam Hooch. I must confer with Miss Granger." 

Draco agrees and bows his head respectfully as he leaves. Hermione takes a seat before the Headmistress when she offers it.

 

"As for you..." McGonagall waits expectantly, eyes round and eyebrows high. 

 

"What positions are there available, professor?"

 

"Well... Defense Against the Dark Arts has been filled by young Mr. Potter, as you know. I believe that leaves three vacancies, but you may have whatever subject you like. You scored so highly, I'm surprised you haven't applied for degrees in any of these courses."

 

"The vacancies? I don't want to have you fire anyone--"

 

"Oh, Miss Granger. My professors have skills beyond what they teach. Many of our professors have the capability to teach more than one subject. But, we have an opening in Arithmancy third period, Ancient Runes is currently unassigned, and History of Magic has recently been vacated." 

Hermione tries valiantly to hide her smile, but fails.

 

"I'll take HIstory of Magic, Professor. Might I inquire how Professor Binns is doing?"

 

"He is perfectly alright, but we had too many students failing his class. He was so relaxed and calm in his old age that no one could remain awake during his lectures. It's not his fault--he's losing his voice, you see. Had to have him retire. He's recieving a lovely compensation for his services though. He can live comfortably for the remainder of this decade and beyond."

 

"Then, yes, if you will have me." 

 

"Of course, Miss Granger! I am delighted to have you back." The Headmistress rises from her seat and meets Hermione with a motherly embrace. "Welcome home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know Binns actually is a Ghost at Hogwarts now--but that was just too sad and I couldn't. Just please accept this with a grain of salt, I like happy endings!


	4. Implications in a Cupboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finds herself in a rather awkward situation, between a rock and a hard place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be fluff.

Hermione was thrilled to begin teaching the new students at Hogwarts. She felt wonderfully adept at making them listen to her, her vivid descriptions and animated expressions enough to make her class giggle. 

It was around the end of the third period her first day when she noticed a tall, dark figure lurking in the doorway. 

She assigned the class an essay on the history of Uric the Oddball and dismissed them, eyeing the man in the back. 

 

"Nice job, Professor," Draco says as the students file past him with wayward glances. "You actually kept me awake for Uric the Oddball. I always wondered why he was famous, and now I know and am not likely to forget." He wiggles his eyebrows, referencing her silly act. She hates herself for the butterflies in her stomach. 

_This boy tormented you so, why do you yearn for him? He hurt you before, he's likely to do it again._

_You know people don't change._

Hermione's cheeks flush with heat, trying to ignore her racing heart and thoughts. She swiftly moves past him into the hallway, seeking another book. He follows closely behind her, a puppy at her heels.

 

His demeanor changes in such close quarters, the teasing in his voice all but gone.

 

"I'm not trying to taunt you, Granger," Draco whispers, leaning his weight against the doorjamb with one hand. "I'm quite impressed." 

 

"The great Draco Malfoy is impressed by a Muggleborn witch?" Hermione steps deeper inside the dusty closet, searching for the tome she desires. Draco is beside her, trying to study her expression. 

 

"Yes, believe it or not." He smiles softly in a way that causes Hermione to blush more brightly. His face is extremely close to hers, his breath tickling her neck.

Suddenly the door slams and locks them inside the tiny space. Shrouded in darkness, they scramble in the crowded space in an attempt to make sense of the situation.

 

"I--You!" 

 

"How--?"

 

"What even--!"

 

"Stay still--!"

 

A manic giggling can be heard just outside and Hermione loses her temper. 

 

 _" **PEEVES**!" _ She shrieks, falling over herself and bumping into Draco trying to get to the door. She tries _Alohamora_ , to no avail. " **PEEVES**!"

 

The poltergeist begins clapping to himself, singing a rancid little song.

 

_"Ohh, the guilty little Muggle-born is going to be pissed,_

_She will surely be in line to get a slap on the wrist!_

_Dear Slytherin and Ravenclaw_

_Having a little closeted kiss!_

_Little old Hermione is surely down on her luck,_

_She must truly be a sucker,_

_For all her lonely heart wants is that Slytherin to f--!"_

 

Peeves is cut off by McGonagall storming into the hall. 

 

"Peeves! That's quite enough of that!" She shooed away the poltergeist with a wave of her wand and rattled with the door. Hermione fell over a box in her haste to move out of the way and found herself in Draco's arms. Him being himself, he can't help but start laughing. The door swung open and a very confused set of students and teachers watched as the two tried to right themselves. 

 

"I hope that pervy poltergeist was right about at least _one_ thing," Draco murmured as McGonagall dispersed the books and boxes. Hermione's pulse quickened, his touch warming on her skin. He pulled her closer to avoid a collision with a stack of inkwells, and she was horrified to discover his smile was at her rabbiting heartbeat.

 

McGonagall ushered everyone out of the small area and into the main corridor, shooting the two new professors a look that said,  _we'll talk about this in my office._  

 

Alone again in the now empty room, Hermione found herself trying valiantly--and failing--to ignore the silver-tongued serpent trodding silently behind her. 

 

"Hermione." 

She mentally shamed herself for the shiver he sent down her spine. She squared her shoulders, set her jaw, and strode away towards the Headmistress' quarters. 

 

* * *

 

 

"I understand Peeves has a penchant for causing trouble," the Headmistress stated gravely. 

 

"That's putting it lightly," Hermione mumbled. 

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, daring her to say something more. Hermione went silent. 

 

"And I understand your classes have gone exceptionally well today." She pushed her spectacles higher up the bridge of her nose. "As such, there will be no reprimand for your behavior." She flicked a finger at Malfoy, bidding him sit further away until needed. 

McGonagall lowered her voice conspiratorially at Hermione, a small quirk of a smile peeking through her authoritarian facade. She glanced beyond Hermione, then settled her gaze on her newest charge.

 

"Next time, I won't save you from Peeves. You'll be stuck with him somewhere until you figure out how to be more discreet about your actions."

Hermione stuttered.

 

"Headmistress--!"

 

"Stop," the elderly woman interrupted. "Go give that young man a reason to grin like that. I have some business to attend to in the West Wing." She winked and disappeared. 

Hermione felt eyes on her back, _those_ eyes, the ones that bore through her and saw into her mind.

 

"No fair, Occlumens." She mutters. His body presses her against the ancient desk, sending sensations throughout her nervous system.  _Danger. Danger. Stop. Predator._

She knew he was indeed a hazard to her health. 

That didn't stop her. 

 

He planted his hands on either side of her, effectively trapping her against the desk. 

 

"Hermione," His eyes searched hers, wanting to find the semantics behind her actions. "Must you tease me?" 

The close proximity didn't help her think clearer. She felt a haze descend over her, thickening with each rapid heartbeat. 

 

"Draco..." She felt his excitement when she whispered his name. Her hands flew to his neck, pulling herself up to be nose-to-nose with him. "I don't need to be a Legillimens to understand how you make me feel." 

He made a satisfied growl deep in his chest and she found herself crushed against his solid frame. 

Though he held her roughly and hungrily, his lips caressed her with a gentleness she would never have thought him capable of. His fingers snaked into her hair and massaged the base of her skull, causing a moan to rise in her throat. 

 

" _Where_ did you learn to kiss like that?"

 

"Astoria gave me some pointers," Draco wiggled his brows and grinned rakishly. "She showed me exactly what drives girls mad." He dipped his nimble fingers to grace the small of her back, and Hermione gasped. 

 

" _Thank you Astoria_ ," She managed breathlessly. Draco trailed kisses from her jawline to her collarbone, his lips exploring every exposed part of her skin. Her eyelids fluttered and she gripped his robe like a vice, her thighs gently tightening around his hips. 

But then her eyes caught sight of someone she didn't want watching. She froze, stiffening her posture and confusing Draco to the point that he turned to look as well. 

 

"Well, fuck, don't stop on my account." Fred Weasley gazed out at them from a medium sized portrait hanging near the entrance. He had a fiendish grin on his face, reminding Hermione of the stories she had read about Djinns and their tricks. 

 

"I'm guessing my worthless half-witted brother did something to drive you away, eh Granger?" He shrugged and crossed his arms. "Not that I blame you. He always _was_ a twat." 

Hermione discreetly pulled her clothing back into place, face redder than a Christmas bauble. Draco avoided Fred's eyes quite successfully. 

 

"But what really surprises _me_ though--Why _Malfoy_?" He glances at the blushing blond good-naturedly. "No offense, mate, but you were _also_ an arsehole in school. You _sure_ know how to pick 'em, Granger." Fred stretches within his frame, yawning widely. "Well, I'm off then. Thanks for the show, guys." He winks and disappears from his portrait, Hermione tracking his progress through the paintings and out of sight. 

 

 


End file.
